


Countdown

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets, part ii. [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Mistletoe, Snowed In, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “I’m pretty sure that my brain is going to start leaking out of my ears any second now.”“That can actually happen,” Izzy answers, carefully marking her spot on the page of her neuropathology textbook with a bright pink sticky note. “Not from studying. But I can show you pictures.”“I’ll pass."(Or, the one where Izzy and Maia get stuck in the library fifteen hours prior to the end of the semester by a barrage of freezing rain.Thankfully, due to a strategically placed piece of mistletoe, they're able to make the most of it.)





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkAliceLilith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAliceLilith/gifts).



> this was written for the TMI Femslash 2017 Winter Exchange! some of my recipient's prompts included being stuck inside because of weather and mistletoe, which are two of my favorite things in holiday fics, so here we are! enjoy! <3

“I’m pretty sure that my brain is going to start leaking out of my ears any second now.” 

“That can actually happen,” Izzy answers, carefully marking her spot on the page of her neuropathology textbook with a bright pink sticky note. “Not from studying. But I can show you pictures.” 

“I’ll pass,” Maia groans, dropping her forehead to the table. The end of the semester is a mere fifteen hours away; she’s been studying for this final for three days and still feels like she has no more than a tenuous grasp on the material. It’s already past midnight, and there's a headache pulsing at her temples, but she still has three more chapters worth of notes that she has to review and revise for the fifth (or maybe it's the sixth) time. 

At this point, she’s starting to wonder if she should just swallow her pride and beg someone for a doctor’s note so she postpone the final and cram in some more studying. 

“Look,” Izzy says softly, flipping her textbook closed with a thud that seems absurdly loud in the otherwise quiet library. “Maybe we should just call a night. All this studying isn’t going to mean anything if we don’t get some sleep.” 

“I’m almost done,” Maia sighs with frustration, rifling the pages of her notebook. There’s really not that many pages left that she has to actually go through; it would probably only take an hour, at most.

“You’re not going to remember any of that if you’re concentrating on trying not to fall asleep,” Izzy retorts, using her pen to flick Maia's notebook closed. “You can always finish up in the morning.” 

Maia can’t come with any logical retort to that. Besides, her eyes _are_ leaden, and the thought of crawling into their warm bed with a cup of hot chocolate and getting a few hours of sleep sounds so heavenly that she actually groans aloud.

“Fine,” she says, gathering up her pens and books. “But don’t you dare let me sleep in.” 

“I’m meeting Alec at the gym at seven,” Izzy replies, packing up as well. “I’ll make sure you’re up before I leave.” 

Waking up that early sounds absolutely _horrible_ , but Maia is fairly certain that she’ll be awake anyways worrying about her final, so she reluctantly nods. 

“Fine. So long as you bring me back a latte.” 

“Deal.” Izzy leans across the table and pecks her lips before she pulls her jacket on. “Let’s go home.” 

As they walk through the shelves towards the elevators, their footsteps seem to echo. Even though the library is open all night during finals, there’s surprisingly few people still around. A few of the tiny rooms reserved for use by graduate students are occupied, and some of the couches and chairs in the common room are serving as makeshift beds, but most of the desks and tables are empty of all but dead pens and empty coffee cups. 

The wall that faces the elevators is one large window that looks out onto the well-trafficked quad three stories below, and as Izzy presses the button to summon the elevator, Maia absently glances outside, expecting to maybe see a light dusting of snow. 

Unfortunately, what she actually sees is far more unpleasant. 

“Izzy,” she says, stepping close enough to feel the coldness of the glass waft against her face. “Look.” 

They’ve been in the library for the last eight hours and, sometime during that span of time, the city was hit by a barrage of freezing rain. The paths crisscrossing the quad and the trees bordering said paths have all been blanketed in glistening, sparkling ice. There’s only one person within sight and, as Maia watches, their feet shoot out from underneath them and they land _hard_ on their back. 

“Wow,” Izzy says, stepping up behind Maia, winding her arms around her waist and dropping her chin to her shoulder. The elevator chimes behind them, but neither make a move for it. “It’s beautiful.” 

She’s not wrong; there _is_ a certain kind of beauty to the way the ice catches the light pouring from the library's windows, but that isn't exactly what Maia was hoping Izzy would get from looking out the window. 

“It’s also a cracked head waiting to happen,” Maia responds. Neither of them are particularly clumsy, but ice is still ice, and since it doesn’t look like any salt has been put down, walking home seems like a huge risk, and she did _not_ study for three days only to end up with a cracked skull mere hours before her final. 

Although that certainly would be a injury serious enough to warrant her getting out of her final. 

She doesn’t mean to say that aloud, but she’s apparently tired enough that her filter has worn down, because Izzy just laughs and steps away from her. 

“You are _not_ cracking your skull open to get out of your final. We can stay here until they get the sidewalks salted. We can probably even steal a graduate booth if you want to get some sleep.”

Maia is fairly certain that sleeping on the floor or with her head resting on a table is only going to make her headache worse but, on the flip side, not sleeping at all will _also_ make her headache worse. 

As soon as she finishes this last final, she's officially sleeping for an entire day. 

They head back into the stacks and, within moments, find an unoccupied graduate student booth. The sign-up sheet posted beside the door doesn’t have anyone listed until seven in the morning, and Maia hopes that they’ll be long gone by then. 

For a small room, there’s a surprising amount of furniture packed into it; there’s a table, four plastic molded chairs, a garbage can overflowing with coffee cups and junk food wrappers, and a television, mounted to the wall. While the walls are dotted with pockmarks, wayward marker scribbles and tape residue, the carpet actually looks mostly free of stains, which makes Maia a little more amenable to the idea of sleeping on it for a few hours. 

“Well, that’s cute,” Izzy says as she closes the door. Maia slides her bag off her shoulder and turns around to find Izzy looking above the door frame, where someone has pinned a sprig of mistletoe alongside a piece of the paper with the words **_now kiss!_** scrawled on it. 

“Interesting way to procrastinate,” Maia says, walking over and reaching up to touch the plant. It's definitely fake; the leaves are far too waxy, and the red berries don’t burst between her fingers when she squeezes them. 

“Maybe they were just trying to add some holiday cheer to the place,” Izzy replies as she reaches up and takes Maia’s fingers, gently tugging them away from the plant. “I think it’s sweet.” 

“It’s _ridiculous_ ,” Maia laughs. "They could have at least used the real thing." Izzy just smiles at her fondly, brings Maia’s hand to her mouth and kisses it softly. It's barely hard enough to classify as a peck, but it makes Maia's breath click in her throat. 

“Mistletoe is poisonous,” Izzy murmurs, the words brushing against Maia's knuckles.

“So is alcohol, technically, but there’s still nothing more festive than spiked eggnog." The sentence comes out breathier than Maia intends, because Izzy presses another kiss to her fingers midway through the sentence, leaving a smudge of red lipstick behind.

Maia swallows heavily. She’s still tired, and her headache hasn’t dissipated, but she has an idea for how they can kill some time while they wait for the sidewalks to be salted. 

Stepping in closer, she drops her free hand to Izzy’s hip and slides her fingertips under the hem of Izzy's heavy, warm sweater. Izzy grins and presses another kiss to Maia's hand before she drops it in favor of curling her fingers around Maia’s neck. 

“I thought the mistletoe was ridiculous,” she says with an inquiring eyebrow, bumping her nose against Maia’s. 

“It is,” Maia answers, mouth skimming against Izzy’s, close enough that she smell mint on Izzy's breath. “But it still gives me an excuse to kiss you.”

“You never need an excuse for that.” 

Before Maia can come up with something clever, Izzy kisses her firmly and starts walking her backwards towards the table and, for the next half hour, Maia has more important things to think of than clever retorts. 

Namely, Izzy and her talented fingers and the wonderful way Maia's name pours from her mouth.

By the time they make themselves mostly presentable again, it’s nearly two o’clock in the morning, and Maia is so exhausted that the carpeted floor of the room is starting to look downright cushy. But before she can simply slide down the wall to test it out, Izzy pulls her towards the door. 

“If the sidewalks aren’t done, we can sleep here. But I _really_ want our bed.” 

“Me too,” Maia agrees, burying a yawn into her shoulder and squeezing Izzy’s hand tightly. 

Thankfully, when they return to the window across from the elevators, it looks like the university’s grounds crew have been busy; the trees are still glistening with ice, but the paths have been mostly cleared off, and the person they watch walk across the quad doesn’t slip at all.

“Thank God,” Maia says, pressing the button to summon the elevator. “If I don’t sleep, I might actually die.” 

“Still want me to wake you up at seven?” Izzy asks, pressing a kiss to Maia’s temple, which is still throbbing. Maia groans loudly as the elevator arrives. 

“Can’t you just write my final for me?” 

“You’re going to be fine," Izzy laughs. "I’ll wake you up at eight instead.” 

As they step into the elevator, Maia glances at the time on her phone.

Only thirteen more hours until the end of the semester. 

She can’t _wait_.


End file.
